Christmas in the Air
by NeoVenus22
Summary: Chad and Ryan exchange presents. ChadRyan. Complete.


This was a Christmas present written for my friend Darkchilde. Taking place sometime after HSM2.

Disclaimer: No one mentioned belongs to me.

* * *

"So this is Chez Evans at Christmas," said Chad, in the flat sort of tone where he couldn't decide if he should be laughing or running.

"Yep," answered Ryan, hardly embarrassed by the seven-foot white and silver artificial Christmas trees adorning the sitting room. Chad hadn't even seen the lifesize light-up reindeer yet.

"Wow. And I thought it was swanky when my mom switched to the gingerbread-scented candles."

Once upon a time, Ryan might have been horrified, thinking that somehow his parents' (and his sister's) (and okay, sometimes his) need for excess had driven a wedge between him and what Sharpay liked to refer to as his "wrong side of the tracks, Katie-Holmes-before-the-crazy Dawson's boyfriend."

Shar always did have an insatiable flair for the dramatic.

But he knew Chad wasn't saying these things to drive home any point about the vast differences between the life of Chad Danforth and the life of Ryan Evans. These were points they both knew all too well, lists they could recite from memory. And it had long since stopped making a difference.

"Quick, let's go upstairs before the carolers' lunch break ends."

Chad's eyebrows shot up into his hair. "You're kidding, right? You're totally kidding."

Ryan just grinned.

Upstairs, Ryan's pink door was adorned with a wreath the size of car tire, and a string of silver bells hanging from his doorknob. "Is there any room that hasn't escaped the wrath of the Christmas spirit?" asked Chad, turning the knob and going in without waiting for Ryan. Ryan tried not to be too pleased with the sheer level of familiarity Chad had eased into.

"Nah, this place is practically base ops for the Ghost of Christmas Present."

"Yeah, I bet the presents around here rock."

"Well, actually, I meant≈"

"Dickens, Christmas Carol," Chad filled in with an easy smirk. "Yeah, I know. Don't look so surprised, Evans, I am literate."

"It's not the literacy that surprises me, it's the references to it. It's almost... nerdy. Should I be worried?"

"Hey, if you can swing a bat, I guess anything's possible, right?" Chad grinned at Ryan ruthlessly, flopping on top of his bed and puckering the comforter with his weight. "Okay. Enough talk. Where's my present?"

Ryan had to fight to hide the smile threatening to blossom. He put all of his theater skills to good use to come off as completely innocent as he asked, "What present?"

"My Christmas present, dork."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Ryan.

"Okay, fine." Chad shrugged nonchalantly. "Then I guess you won't mind if I don't give you your present."

Ryan was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. "All right, your present's in the closet."

Chad's eyebrows arched towards his hairline at the unfortunate and unintentional phrasing, but he didn't say anything. He just rolled off the bed, padded over to the closet, and scooped his neatly wrapped box from the floor. "You or Leticia?" he asked, referring to the maid that had wrapped every gift Sharpay had ever given since the twins were six.

"Me," said Ryan defensively, particularly proud of the bow he'd made, how it was all twisty and sproingy. (Shar liked to point out, not wrongly, about how ardently Ryan "embraced the cliche.")

"Looks cool," Chad said. He tilted his chin in the direction of the bag he'd tossed cavalierly in the corner. "Yours is in my backpack."

Ryan crouched, unzipped, mouth-breathed his way through an excavation of a layer of gym clothes, and found a misshapen blob decorated with blue and white snowmen. He didn't know if the package was lumpy from poor care or because the contents had somehow mutated.

"Count of three?" said Chad, clutching his box and bouncing like a little kid to tear into it. Ryan was still periodically surprised by how much dorkiness was lurking under that huge hair and that aren't-I-so-cool grin.

"You know, Christmas isn't for another two days yet..."

"Dude."

"Okay, okay," said Ryan, laughing. "Count of three. One, two..."

It was easy enough to decimate Chad's package; it was held together with two pieces of scotch tape and a whole lot of hope. Ryan peeled the last remains of a shredded snowman from the squashy object.

"Is this a pork pie hat?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, that's what the dude at the store said," said Chad, looking up from the tireless task of prying tape off of his gift. "I dunno. I thought it was kinda cool, and it's not like any of the others you have..."

"It's cool," said Ryan, looking the hat over, surprising himself by actually meaning it.

"Sorry it's not in a pastel or anything. But I figured you had some like, clothing dye lying around or something. Like that time my sister had to dye her shoes to match her bridesmaid's dress. And, I mean," Chad grinned, "it couldn't hurt for you to wear, like, people colors once in awhile."

"People colors?"

"What's wrong with black? Normal people wear black. Just don't wear, like, _all_ black, like those kids who sit in the corner."

"Chad," Ryan cut him off with amusement. "It's really cool. Thank you."

Chad ducked his head. "Yeah, well, no big." Obviously embarrassed, he resumed unwrapping his present. For someone so eager to dig in, he was taking his time, Ryan noted with amusement. He liked that Chad was embarrassed. Ryan scooped up the pork pie hat and modeled it in the full-length mirror by the door.

"CDs?" said Chad.

Ryan looked away from his reflection. "Yeah. Trans-Siberian Orchestra."

"Orchestra? Dude, is this Christmas music?"

"Yeah." Ryan dropped down on top of his bed. "But there's some Beethoven in there, too."

Chad stared at him, looking like he was severely on the verge of cutting in with a 'seriously, dude?'

"I thought you might like them," said Ryan quietly. "I heard them on the radio the other day... they're sort of a modern-day twist on old classics, kind of a cool, rock/metal orchestra. And hey," he grinned, "no musicals, right?"

"Wait, Evans, you were listening to the radio?"

Ryan shrugged. "I was trying to find that one station you were telling me about."

"He can be taught!" crowed Chad, laughing.

"Hey, if you don't like the CDs, I can exchange them," Ryan offered. He blushed in the general direction of his lap. "I didn't want to just get you a gift card or something like that, I thought this was something we could try together." His grin faded, wondering if he'd made completely the wrong choice. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

"No, man, they're cool." Chad beamed at him. "And it'll probably drive your sister crazy."

Ryan laughed. "So you like your present?"

"Yeah. My parents and my sister just give me like, cash and gift cards and stuff. And my grandma knits me sweaters. So this is cool, I mean, that you tried to do something like this."

"Even if it's not your usual style?"

Chad tilted his chin in the direction of the hat in Ryan's lap. "What about you?"

"So we're both trying new things," said Ryan. After a slight hesitation, he said, "Together."

Chad reached over and settled the pork pie on top of Ryan's head. "Together."

"Merry Christmas, Danforth."

"Merry Christmas, Evans."


End file.
